Wizardborn (World's First Wizard Book 3) by Aaron Schneider (classic books for 11 year olds .txt) 📗

“We need to get that bait together,” Milo said to Ambrose, doing his best to sound officerial despite the quaver creeping into his voice. “Please, get Percy and the Ezekiel-thing to help you set that up. This will be enough ash.”

Ambrose met his eyes, and for once, Milo didn’t feel the gathering pressure attempting to force him to look away. The big man stared at Milo, then with a grim nod, headed out. If Milo hadn’t turned to watch him go, he might have missed the look that passed between Rihyani and the big man.

Were they about to try something well-intentioned and foolish to stop him?

Milo found himself grinding his teeth before Ambrose had closed the door behind him.

Rihyani’s golden pupils glittered as her eyes narrowed. Milo felt the temptation to start a preemptive argument, but a hiss from Imrah drew his attention back to the blood. Rihyani used the distraction to advance, coming to stand before the trunks, hands held out to the offering of ash.

“Why are you doing this?” she murmured.

Milo shook his head as though the question were a bothersome insect at his ear.

“The ash and its connection to the hearth act as a beacon to the shades,” he began distractedly, reciting a section of Spectral Ruminations he’d long since committed to memory. “The ash when catalyzed by essence—in this case, my blood—will draw them like moths to the flame. After that—”

“Not what I’m asking,” Rihyani said, cutting him off. “I’m asking you why you are choosing this? Why this desperate attack when you could as easily go back to Berlin and make your report?”

Milo felt cold sweat beading on his brow as he felt his mind might split in half, torn between two fronts.

“If I do that, Zlydzen could get the Resonator working at full capacity,” Milo said, not bothering to keep the hot edge out of his voice. “He could scoop up thousands before the Germans pulled it together, and that doesn’t take into account what roadblocks the Reich might throw up.”

“So, it’s for expedience, then?” the fey asked, her narrowed gazed threatening to skewer him. “It has to happen fast, and this is the only way? Even if it costs you your life?”

“Yes,” Milo said, and he saw a dangerous light flash through Rihyani’s eyes. “I don’t know. Yes, that’s part of it, but I don’t have the words. I’ve got to keep the essence dynamic.”

Rihyani pursed her lips and Milo felt her will brush his, an intimate caress flesh could only try to imitate.

Then don’t tell me. She sighed as though resting her head against his soul. Show me.

So he did.

He allowed the vision that had overwhelmed him in the presence of the Resonator spill out to her. She opened herself to the experience, letting it wash over her. On a level separate from the mental strain of keeping the blood mobile, he felt her will tremble and eventually push back against the vision he’d unleashed. She’d seen enough; she understood. He sealed the vision like a barkeep turning off the tap on a particularly venomous vintage.

It took her a moment to compose herself, but he waited, comforted because she didn’t shield herself from him. He felt the raw chaos of her vibrant inhuman emotions rushing past him like unfamiliar winds. When things finally settled, he felt the closeness of her resting against him.

I suppose for a man, there are few better ways to see it done, she whispered. He could taste the smile on her lips.

So I’m dead already, am I?

Rihyani’s will stroked his, as melancholy and sweet as the keening of a violin echoing over a moor.

Since the day I met you, my love, she breathed on his soul. It is the fate of every son of Adam I’ve ever loved. You are suns born to consume yourself on this cursed earth.

Milo couldn’t hide the roil of emotions that rose in him at the intimations of her heart, but she didn’t withdraw even as waves of jealousy and shock lashed her.

I’m older than you can imagine, my love, but my heart, the will of what I am, is still a young lover. I will not love you any less for the parting that will come between us and may love you even more for it. It will break my heart if you spurn me for what I am, but in time, long after you are gone, I will find another to love. Such is my way, and I would have you know it if we go to face the end together. Can you love me still?

The ache in his heart was real, the wild emotions rampant and fierce, but the answer came up from the depths of him all the same.

Yes, he replied, then reached out to touch her with both will and flesh.

She pressed against him, and once again, it seemed that they were made to fit together, every contour melding seamlessly into a glorious whole.

“Then let’s go and die well, my love.”

The wind was on fire.

Or at least it seemed that it might kindle at any moment as the heaped bonfires’ flames licked up and out over a plain of leveled buildings. Tongues of fire lapped the falling snowflakes as they fell, a defiant dragon’s breath raised against the descending snowstorm. Milo watched the twists and writhing of the flames and felt a shudder pass through him that had nothing to do with the cold.

He lowered his gaze, dismissing the old memories as he stared over the wasteland.

The first of the lights were coming into sight, at first in small fireteams, but then in whole platoons accompanied by vehicles sporting headlamps. Milo smiled as he watched more and more of them come.

Zlydzen might have been a diabolical schemer, but he was not a creature with military experience, or perhaps he had panicked when Milo escaped. He was using a sledgehammer to swat a fly, and for his trouble, Milo was going to pry that sledgehammer